Disclaimer : It's good to have one's priorities in order. I should try it
sometime. Between all this author work and school work (I wonder if spying
on people in the school courtyard counts?) and house work, it might be nice
to know my priorities. Of course there would be no fun if everything was
organized. Well, at least disclaimers don't have to be organized.
Everyone already knows that my pathetic writing could never stand up to
RAS's glorious works.
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Chapter Seven : The Cat and the Wolf
Nessa listened intently to her son's erratic pulse.
"Inhale," she directed, keeping her ear to his chest. Monty did as he was told and took a deep breath, a breath that echoed heavily in his pained lungs. "Again, slower this time," Nessa requested. Monty obeyed again. Nessa's concern grew.
"What's wrong with me, Mom," Monty wheezed.
"I don't know, Monty," Nessa sighed, "all I can say is you should rest until we can figure out this illness." Monty sighed heavily and laid himself down on his back.
"It hurts when I breathe," Monty moaned, "like I'm inhaling in freezing air." Nessa sat by her son's side and kept a comforting watch over him until he fell into a deep, slumber. Normally, elves did not sleep but rather slipped into their thoughts and memories. Only severe injuries or dire illness forced an elf to actually sleep.
"How is he," a woman's voice asked from the doorway.
"Very sick, Miss Catti," Nessa replied, "I don't know the illness, but the spirits have been speaking of a mysterious sickness that kills only those of elven blood."
Catti-brie scoffed. She didn't like Nessa and refused to believe the drow female's claims that she could communicate with spirits. Still, Nessa had an uncanny ability to know more than she should about things that didn't concern her. Catti-brie thoroughly disliked the drow female and found it hard to feel sorry for her regarding Monty's illness.
"Do you hate me, Miss Catti," Nessa asked suddenly.
Catti-brie had to think. Did she really hate Nessa? She disliked her thoroughly, but would it make her happy to see Nessa hurt or sad? Was she jealous because Drizzt had chosen Nessa over her? "No," she stated flatly. Nessa scrutinized her with her unnerving, cat-like eyes.
"I can tell when you're lying," Nessa reminded, "maybe not strongly, but some part of you does hate me." Nessa drew a symbol in the air between herself and Catti-brie. Her long fingers waved and twisted as she added more symbols to the first. The atmosphere darkened considerably and Catti- brie felt her skin begin to itch.
"What are you doing," Catti-brie demanded fearfully. Nessa's eyes began to change color, from golden yellow to fiery orange to blood red.
"When," Nessa asked in a daze, taking no notice of Catti-brie's question. Suddenly the darkness lifted and Nessa's eyes reverted back to yellow. The drow put a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. "That was unexpected," she remarked.
"What was that," Catti-brie demanded strongly.
"My brother was probing at my mind," Nessa explained, "he's coming here."
Catti-brie groaned. She despised Nessa's brother whole-heartedly. Unable to stand Nessa's company any longer, Catti-brie turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
'My, isn't she foul tempered,' a male voice in Nessa's left ear commented.
'She hates us,' Nessa replied.
~*~*~*~
True to her word, Aires refused to slow or stop her patrol. The winter wolves seemed accustomed to the patrol leader's pace because they never once complained.
Aires was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice anything anyway. She was thinking long and hard about herself. She held very few things in distaste, but when it came to light elves Aires carried little love for her pale cousins. She was not alone in her dim opinion of light elves. Most all drandil shied from their lighter cousins, their long memories not quite ready to forgive the slaughter wreaked upon them in the ancient times.
As a whole, Aires was very kind-hearted and generous although not very trusting. Aires was a born leader, quick of mind, open to others, and fair in her judgments. By elven standards, she was not incredible beautiful. Her black eyes were large and subtly slanted, her muscles were well formed even though she was rather scrawny. Her skin was a darker bronze than most drandil and scarred from a life lived outside the protection of the city they were fast approaching.
The sentries of the hidden city passed the word of Aires's return at remarkable speed. So fast that the gate-keepers were waiting for them for several minutes.
"Well met, Aires Whitetalon," the gate-master greeted, saluting Aires as she pulled rein before the gates, "what have you seen beyond the Silver City?"
"Well met to you as well, Erian Nightwake. I bring two Gold elves wandering where they shouldn't," Aires replied dejectedly, "Spinalo found them and wishes to take them before Her Majesty." Erian's expression saddened.
"Who shall take responsibility for the Golds," he asked of the patrol group.
Spinalo slid from the back of the wolf he had been riding and stepped forward. "I will shoulder the responsibility of Zerial and Tanarial's presence." The twins exchanged surprised looks.
"So be it then, Spinalo Blackfeather," Erian decreed, "the Golds will remain as your family's guests until the Queen decides otherwise." Erian levitated himself to the parapets and opened the gate for the patrol.
"Pray well meetings again, Erian," Spinalo thanked as he passed between the gates with the rest of the patrol and he twins.
"Pray well meetings again," Erian returned, closing the gate behind them.
The patrol dismounted and the three other wolf riders led their mounts away. Aires spoke something to Spinalo in a strange and rapid language that the twins could not begin to decipher before she and her mount also departed. Spinalo smiled widely at the twins.
"My home lies on the fringe of the city and it may be a long walk depending on the other drandil' reactions," Spinalo notified, "it's been a long time since a light elf has visited the Silver City."
"Why'd you volunteer to take us in," Tanarial questioned.
"You were kind to me when I fell from the tree," Spinalo explained, "and you refused to cut my throat when I offered it, therefor I should try to repay your kindness."
"But we caused you to fall out of the tree," Zerial reminded, his tone light and merry. Spinalo smiled happily and led the way into the drandil city.
"Welcome to Argentium, the Silver City," the dragon elf declared proudly.
Truly, Argentium was beautiful and, like the surrounding woods, well named. The city was located not only on the ground but also extending high into the trees, which were colossal and as white as snow from their trunks to their leaves. Buildings made of marble and limestone surrounded the bases of the great trees and lined the roads, which were paved with smoothed marble. The structures were built in every style known to the twins and in several that weren't. Walkways and staircases circled up the trees and ended in twisting spiraling bridges leading to more trees and more walkways. Dwellings of stone and wood were built into the tree tops as houses.
On the northern edge of the city, a sheer wall of rock rose up from the ground. It too was adorned by walkways, balconies, and staircases galore. Huge gaping cavern mouths occupied the higher regions of the cliff, where all manner of winged creatures were entering and exiting.
Though the city was populated by no more than about six or seven hundred elves, it seemed as if to hold three times that number. Elves bustled about the ground buildings and scurried across the wide arches at ridiculous speeds, all of them seeming to need to be somewhere else.
The place had a warm, peaceful aura to it. It reminded the twins of far away Silverymoon, a place they both thoroughly enjoyed.
~*~*~*~
Seivriel flopped down on her heavily cushioned couch, which was made entirely of pillows. She settled herself and even allowed the litter of wolf pups she had taken in to make themselves comfortable beside and on top of her. One of the pups, a black and red fellow named Lucifer, laid down on her chest and howled happily.
"Milady, Cain has returned," one of the door guards notified.
"Show him and the girl in," Seivriel ordered. A moment later the grand doors swung open and Cain strode in majestically, Lazuli still perched on his back. The winter wolf bowed his great head to Seivriel and allowed Lazuli to dismount. At the sight of Cain, Lucifer and his siblings charged at the larger wolf, howling with delight. Cain licked each puppy in turn and sent them back to Seivriel, where they once again arranged themselves around her. Lucifer reclaimed his place atop Seivriel's chest.
"I take my leave, Mistress," Cain announced respectfully before he departed, growling at the door guards as he did so.
"So you are the daughter of the renowned Artemis Entreri," Seivriel started, "pray tell me, how fares he?"
"Well in most all aspects," Lazuli shrugged.
"And how fares the drow, Jarlaxle?"
"Not well I'm afraid," Lazuli said slowly.
"Come closer, Child," Seivriel beckoned, "don't be shy." Lazuli did as she was told. "Sit if you like," Seivriel offered, gesturing toward the wide array of cushions and pillows. Lazuli sat boldly on the soft pillow directly across from Seivriel. Lucifer leapt from his perch and clambered into Lazuli's lap. Standing up on his hind legs and placing his wide paws on Lazuli's belly, the wolf pup howled happily and wagged his bushy, little tail.
Lazuli patted the puppy and rubbed his loose, baby coat of fur. He licked her hand and whined expectantly.
"Lucifer likes you," Seivriel observed, "he wants you to pick him up. Please continue with your tale."
"Jarlaxle is very sick," Lazuli stated, picking Lucifer up and letting him nestle into her chest, "it has been confirmed that Jarlaxle is sick with a plague currently ravaging the Underdark and the elven forests."
"That is ill news indeed," Seivriel reflected, "Artemis did not tell me the full details of the situation. He only spoke of your need of a swift ride to Icewind Dale."
"Jarlaxle is already entering the second of the four stages of the disease according to an associate's evaluation," Lazuli stated, "time is swiftly running out for him. Another three weeks and his body will be unable to fight the disease any longer."
"Aruine Abitus," Seivriel acknowledged, "word of this plague has reached my ears and eyes. So Jarlaxle lies on his deathbed and the daughter of the king of assassins races to save him," the pirate leader paused, "has it really come to this so soon?"
"I have a name," Lazuli said defensively, "it's Lazuli."
"I know," Seivriel said calmly, "I helped name you." Lazuli was taken aback, but showed it not. Perhaps I will tell you the tale someday, but three weeks is not a long time and Icewind Dale is a long way from here."
"You have the fastest ships on the Sword Coast," Lazuli exclaimed, "can't you get us there in time?"
"The fastest of my ships could be there in ten days," Seivriel countered grimly. Lazuli's heart sank. "Which is why we will be traveling by air instead," the pirate leader added cheerfully. Lazuli looked up.
"How," she demanded skeptically.
"I have my ways," Seivriel replied, standing up and shooing the wolf pups away, "follow me."
Lazuli did so, not having much other choice. Seivriel guided her swiftly into the high reaches of Ebony Manor, into the aviaries. They came to a small cave where a great black dragon was resting contentedly. Lazuli stared in awe at the beast. Jarlaxle had told her many stories of the dragons he had encountered in his life, all of them had been huge, ancient beasts of unsurpassed majesty. This black was no less lovely than the assassin had imagined a dragon would be.
"Well met, Melkor," Seivriel greeted with a deep bow.
"Greetings, Pirate Lady," Melkor returned, shifting his horned head and locking his penetrating gaze on Seivriel, "you bring a companion?"
"Melkor, this is Lazuli Entreri," Seivriel introduced, "Lazuli, this is Melkor."
"It is an honor, great dragon Melkor," Lazuli greeted, bowing deeply.
"The pleasure is all mine, fair lady," Melkor crooned, coiling an uncoiling his tail as he spoke in his deep, mesmeric voice, "why do you call, Pirate Lady?"
"To ask a favor," Seivriel stated, "a favor that only Melkor can grant."
"What is this favor worth," the dragon inquired.
"All the favor's plunder," the pirate promised.
"Ask it then," Melkor shifted his powerful legs out from under his belly.
"A swifter ride than any ship could give is needed greatly by myself and Lazuli," Seivriel explained. Melkor lifted his great head and stood proudly.
"Am I to carry you as if I were a common pack animal," the dragon snorted indignantly.
"Never a pack animal, dear Melkor," Seivriel assured, "it only occurred to me that you may wish to come and help raid a certain rival pirate's treasure horde on the way back." Lazuli understood perfectly. Seivriel was playing with Melkor, tempting him with the promise of treasures while asking for a service in return.
If Melkor had possibly been an older dragon he would have (literally) acidly refused Seivriel's request. But Melkor was not old, and his horde was pathetically small, even for a young dragon. He would take whatever gold he could obtain.
"Where are we going, when do we leave, and when must you arrive," Melkor asked slyly.
Seivriel suppressed a wide grin as she replied, "Icewind Dale, immediately, and as soon as possible." Melkor thought for a moment.
"I can reach Icewind Dale from here in a day and a half and I can leave whenever you wish," the black dragon reasoned.
"We depart in half an hour then," Seivriel decided, "we will see you at the end of Cresant Street, Melkor." The dragon nodded his approval.
Seivriel bowed and exited the cave. Lazuli followed suit and hurried after the pirate leader.
~*~*~*~
Reigaldus Seralon trekked steadily across the snow. Leaving no tracks or trail, the renegade drow was nearing the end of a long journey. Reigaldus was a orphan whose family had been destroyed for sacrilege against the Spider Queen. Ever a curious free-spirit, Reigaldus had declined the chance to join with any minor houses and had left Menzoberranzan to see the surface.
Ahead loomed Bryn Shander, the center of activity in Ten Towns, the rogue drow's destination. The gate guards glared down at Reigaldus, untrusting of all strangers.
"State your name and business," they demanded. Reigaldus grinned under a low cowl. For the rogue, this was a prime opportunity to cause some trouble. Reigaldus reached up slowly, brandishing the ebony skin that marked the drow race, and throw back the low cowl. The gate guards jumped in surprise.
"A drow," one exclaimed.
"Go away, devil," ordered another.
"I am Reigaldus Seralon," Reigaldus boldly proclaimed, "I come seeking my sister and my brother-in-law."
"Begone before we shoot you down, drow," the first guard commanded, taking aim at Reigaldus's chest. The other guards also trained their bows on the renegade.
"Shoot if it will please you," Reigaldus shrugged slyly, "I care not."
The first archer fired. The arrow should have pierced Reigaldus's heart and killed the stray drow immediately. But it didn't. The missile merely passed through Reigaldus's chest and lodged itself in the snow. In a panic, the other archers let fly their arrows to the same result.
"What in the nine hells are you," the lead guard demanded fearfully.
"Do that again, it tickles so pleasantly," Reigaldus teased, grinning from ear to pointed ear and showing fang-like canine teeth.
"A vampire," one of the guards cried out. Reigaldus laughed and levitated up to the parapets, still grinning widely.
"Not a vampire," the renegade corrected, floating so close to the leader that they could have shaken hands, "just a wandering trickster."
"Go away," the leader screamed, slashing at Reigaldus with a slender sword at the same time the rogue relaxed the spell that had defeated the arrows. The drow reeled back sharply, putting a hand against a torn collarbone.
"That's going to leave a scar," Reigaldus remarked in mock annoyance, " well since you wont let me in politely, I suppose I'll have to tell my big sister how nasty you were to me, then if I find the time I might come back and exact some petty revenge. Time permitting, you'll all be dead within a ten-day." With a wide grin, Reigaldus dissolved into a thin gray mist and disappeared.
~*~*~*~
Dagasta opened his eyes and groaned. His whole body ached fiercely. When he looked himself over, the patron found himself bearing a spiderweb of scars spread across his naked chest, streaked down his arms, and snaked over his tight stomach.
"Triel must have had fun with you," Dantrag observed from the entrance.
"More than you'll ever know," Dagasta added to the jest, "I just hope I'm still all in one piece."
"Have you looked yet," Dantrag asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"One second," Dagasta turned his back, also criss-crossed with scars, to Dantrag for a moment. Dantrag rolled his amber eyes and shook his head slowly. "Yep," Dagasta confirmed cheerfully, turning back around, "still all there." Dantrag sighed in disgust. "Mushroom stalk in the mud," Dagasta snorted distastefully, "you have no sense of humor at all."
Dantrag glared at the patron with eyes fast turning red.
"Mad Dantrag!" Dagasta pretended to panic, even went so far as to wave his arms in mock terror, "run for the surface! It's the mad Dantrag!"
"You were almost ripped and torn apart and you're laughing like you just tripped over a stray rock," Dantrag exclaimed, his patience long flown out the window.
"Does my light hearted view of life bother you," Dagasta asked stupidly.
"No, I rather enjoyed it when you screamed 'Mad Dantrag' and waved your arms," Dantrag snorted cynically.
"In that case, I'll do it again," Dagasta chirped, "Mad Dantrag! Mad Dantrag!"
Dantrag glared harder although some deep part of him was glad to see the patron well again.
~*~*~*~
Drizzt and Dinin plowed through the deep snow and climbed up the steep trail of rocks. Along the way, Dinin practiced his Common Tongue.
"Abbil," Drizzt prompted, hopping several feet to a higher rock.
"Friend," Dinin translated, following his brother's lead.
"Khales."
"Trust."
"Suuz'chok."
"Tradition."
"Sargtlin."
"Warrior."
"Excellent," Drizzt complimented in Deep Drow, "you'll be speaking Common in no time." They reached the top of the climb and Drizzt sat down on a large boulder. "This place is called Bruenor's Climb," he explained, "I come here to think, to look back and reflect on my life."
"Are you ever sorry you left," Dinin asked, sitting down across from his brother.
"There was little in Menzoberranzan that I held dear," Drizzt replied, " all I missed were Belwar, Clacker, and Zaknafein." Dinin seemed confused. "Clacker was a pech that had been polymorphed into a hook horror," Drizzt explained, "and Belwar..." He stopped all of the sudden, a painful memory had rushed back into his thoughts at the mention of Belwar.
"What," Dinin pressed.
"Do you remember the svirfnebli party our patrol was assigned to kill," Drizzt asked. Dinin nodded. "Remember how Masoj sent Guenwhyvar after the gnomes that captured me?" Again Dinin nodded. "Remember the gnome whose hands you cut off?" Drizzt's voice had gone cold without his knowing it.
"I remember," Dinin said defensively.
"That was Belwar," Drizzt stated, "after several years alone in the wilds I went to Blingdinstone. The gnomes were not cruel to me, but neither did they fully trust me. Belwar convinced them that I was a friend. He took me into his home, taught me his language, treated me with kindness." Drizzt sighed heavily and let his lavender eyes drift over the surrounding tundra, the snow blinding in the afternoon sun. "I still miss them, Clacker was killed and Belwar remained in Blingdinstone after I came to the surface."
"Did you ever think of going back" Dinin asked.
"At first," Drizzt admitted, "I faced so much hate from the surface people at first. I couldn't speak their language so I couldn't explain myself. They would not have believed me anyway. I wondered if I had gone against some divine plan. It all seemed so very hopeless.
"Yet you have remained and thrived," Dinin observed, "you have a home, friends, a family that won't slit your throat just to climb higher in rank." Dinin also let his sight drift. "You're free."
"You're free too now," Drizzt pointed out, sympathetically, "you can have those things too now."
"You and I are different, Drizzt," Dinin shook his head, "you have always had morals and principles, I have yet to learn them." Drizzt wanted to counter, to tell Dinin not to despair and that he would learn in time, but the look in his brother's ruby eyes was not one of hope. Dinin's eyes were the eyes of a dying soldier. Beaten and defeated.
Before Drizzt could try to think of something to say, Guenwhyvar bounded up the climb, roaring, an enormous, white wolf chasing after her.
"What in the nine hells," Dinin exclaimed. Guenwhyvar stood rigid with her back to Drizzt, snarling at the wolf menacingly, determined to protect her master. The wolf paced several feet in front of her, hackles up and growling.
"Damn it all, Guenwhyvar," a new voice from down the winding trail complained in the drow language, "you gave us away again." Drizzt knew the voice.
"Reigaldus," he called questioningly.
"Wrong, foolish male! It is I Matron Yvonnel Baenre herself!" A ghostly apparition floated up from the climb and hovered several feet off the ground. The ghostly figure was caked in blood, an arm was missing, and the right side of the head was badly displaced. Dinin fell back, swords leaping to his hands, but Drizzt laughed long and loud.
"How many times shall we try this jest," Drizzt grinned.
"Until you fall for it," the ghost said angrily, "if your damn cat didn't always give me away, than I would have had you so many times."
"And if you didn't let my cat see YOUR WOLF then she wouldn't be able to give you away," Drizzt countered snidely, "Rei-gal-dus." The ranger dragged out the renegade's name.
The ghost, who wasn't really a ghost at all, began to shift shape. Its arm grew back, the blood faded, the head realigned itself. Soon what had once been the ghost of a great matron became a handsome drow male with very long, white hair, two-toned eyes, and a wide smirk that showed pointed eye- teeth. The wolf stalked over to Reigaldus and sat protectively beside his master.
"Nessa said you were up here," Reigaldus began, stroking the wolf's snow- white fur.
"How long have you and the wolf been in Icewind Dale," Drizzt demanded suspiciously, laying a hand on Guenwhyvar's head to cam her.
"Andrazilian and I arrived this morning," Reigaldus replied innocently.
"Right," Drizzt concluded skeptically, "more likely you came in last night, tormented somebody with your tricks, left, then returned this morning."
"Who is your friend," Reigaldus asked quickly, changing the subject. Drizzt sighed.
"Dinin, this is the family idiot, Nessa's brother," the ranger introduced, "Family Idiot, this is my half-brother Dinin."
"Meilikki Paladin here," Reigaldus jerked his thumb to indicate Drizzt, " means to call me Reigaldus, or just Reig if you like, but he has a low opinion of me."
"Family Idiot is a dobluth," Drizzt explained, using the drow word for outcast, "by drow custom he should have been sacrificed at birth, but Nessa secretly kept him hidden for decades, taking care of him and somewhat warping his mind in the process."
"I see," Dinin concluded. He seemed to remember something about a drow house being brought down for treachery against the Spider Queen. The house's matron was accused of denouncing the Spider Queen and worshipping another goddess, forming alliances with colnbluth, non-drow, and breaking the edicts of Lolth, rescuing third born sons for one offense. The matron herself and most of her cohorts had not been captured and her sisters swore that they knew nothing of the sacrilege done by the matron in question. However, he could not remember the name of the house.
"Daiblon Oculadae," Reigaldus informed simply. Dinin stuttered for a second.
"What?"
"The house you were remembering," Reigaldus explained, "you were thinking of Daiblon Oculadae, House Seralon."
To be continued...
AN: Despite rumors that I am a slacker... what a minute. Why am I denying this? I AM a slacker. But that doesn't mean I don't try to give my best when it comes to my writing. Ok, so my grades could be a little better and I could study a little more for my math and Japanese tests, but that would take time out of my writing. (bangs head against wall, which BTW burns 150 calories an hour, wow) Damn school.
That stupid doohicky that posts stuff is making me mad. Here on Microsoft Word, I can put stuff like ship names and drow words in italics so that people know what they are. But that damn doohicky puts in back in normal font. Why?! Same with Bold lettering. Does anyone know how to not make that happen? I've seen it on some other people's stuff so why does it do that to me?
Who likes Reigaldus? I thought there are too many serious uptight people in this story so I made Reig (which is pronounced as rage) a carefree, fun- loving, trickster type character. The scene between Dagasta and Dantrag (Mad Dantrag!) was also put in to lighten the mood and to keep the story entertaining. And the rivalry between Guenwhyvar (who just appeared in this chap for those who noticed) and Andrazilian I thought would be humorous, you know, cats vs. dogs.
The scene between Dinin and Drizzt... wait a sec! I can't spoil that! Never mind! Talking too much. Please review now that you've obviously read it.
~ Semdai Bloodquill
PS - Am currently developing a song fic about Zak (song is 'Forgive Me' by Godsmack). Thinking about dumping it since I have so much other stuff already. Should I dump it or keep going? Please tell me.
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Chapter Seven : The Cat and the Wolf
Nessa listened intently to her son's erratic pulse.
"Inhale," she directed, keeping her ear to his chest. Monty did as he was told and took a deep breath, a breath that echoed heavily in his pained lungs. "Again, slower this time," Nessa requested. Monty obeyed again. Nessa's concern grew.
"What's wrong with me, Mom," Monty wheezed.
"I don't know, Monty," Nessa sighed, "all I can say is you should rest until we can figure out this illness." Monty sighed heavily and laid himself down on his back.
"It hurts when I breathe," Monty moaned, "like I'm inhaling in freezing air." Nessa sat by her son's side and kept a comforting watch over him until he fell into a deep, slumber. Normally, elves did not sleep but rather slipped into their thoughts and memories. Only severe injuries or dire illness forced an elf to actually sleep.
"How is he," a woman's voice asked from the doorway.
"Very sick, Miss Catti," Nessa replied, "I don't know the illness, but the spirits have been speaking of a mysterious sickness that kills only those of elven blood."
Catti-brie scoffed. She didn't like Nessa and refused to believe the drow female's claims that she could communicate with spirits. Still, Nessa had an uncanny ability to know more than she should about things that didn't concern her. Catti-brie thoroughly disliked the drow female and found it hard to feel sorry for her regarding Monty's illness.
"Do you hate me, Miss Catti," Nessa asked suddenly.
Catti-brie had to think. Did she really hate Nessa? She disliked her thoroughly, but would it make her happy to see Nessa hurt or sad? Was she jealous because Drizzt had chosen Nessa over her? "No," she stated flatly. Nessa scrutinized her with her unnerving, cat-like eyes.
"I can tell when you're lying," Nessa reminded, "maybe not strongly, but some part of you does hate me." Nessa drew a symbol in the air between herself and Catti-brie. Her long fingers waved and twisted as she added more symbols to the first. The atmosphere darkened considerably and Catti- brie felt her skin begin to itch.
"What are you doing," Catti-brie demanded fearfully. Nessa's eyes began to change color, from golden yellow to fiery orange to blood red.
"When," Nessa asked in a daze, taking no notice of Catti-brie's question. Suddenly the darkness lifted and Nessa's eyes reverted back to yellow. The drow put a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. "That was unexpected," she remarked.
"What was that," Catti-brie demanded strongly.
"My brother was probing at my mind," Nessa explained, "he's coming here."
Catti-brie groaned. She despised Nessa's brother whole-heartedly. Unable to stand Nessa's company any longer, Catti-brie turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
'My, isn't she foul tempered,' a male voice in Nessa's left ear commented.
'She hates us,' Nessa replied.
~*~*~*~
True to her word, Aires refused to slow or stop her patrol. The winter wolves seemed accustomed to the patrol leader's pace because they never once complained.
Aires was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice anything anyway. She was thinking long and hard about herself. She held very few things in distaste, but when it came to light elves Aires carried little love for her pale cousins. She was not alone in her dim opinion of light elves. Most all drandil shied from their lighter cousins, their long memories not quite ready to forgive the slaughter wreaked upon them in the ancient times.
As a whole, Aires was very kind-hearted and generous although not very trusting. Aires was a born leader, quick of mind, open to others, and fair in her judgments. By elven standards, she was not incredible beautiful. Her black eyes were large and subtly slanted, her muscles were well formed even though she was rather scrawny. Her skin was a darker bronze than most drandil and scarred from a life lived outside the protection of the city they were fast approaching.
The sentries of the hidden city passed the word of Aires's return at remarkable speed. So fast that the gate-keepers were waiting for them for several minutes.
"Well met, Aires Whitetalon," the gate-master greeted, saluting Aires as she pulled rein before the gates, "what have you seen beyond the Silver City?"
"Well met to you as well, Erian Nightwake. I bring two Gold elves wandering where they shouldn't," Aires replied dejectedly, "Spinalo found them and wishes to take them before Her Majesty." Erian's expression saddened.
"Who shall take responsibility for the Golds," he asked of the patrol group.
Spinalo slid from the back of the wolf he had been riding and stepped forward. "I will shoulder the responsibility of Zerial and Tanarial's presence." The twins exchanged surprised looks.
"So be it then, Spinalo Blackfeather," Erian decreed, "the Golds will remain as your family's guests until the Queen decides otherwise." Erian levitated himself to the parapets and opened the gate for the patrol.
"Pray well meetings again, Erian," Spinalo thanked as he passed between the gates with the rest of the patrol and he twins.
"Pray well meetings again," Erian returned, closing the gate behind them.
The patrol dismounted and the three other wolf riders led their mounts away. Aires spoke something to Spinalo in a strange and rapid language that the twins could not begin to decipher before she and her mount also departed. Spinalo smiled widely at the twins.
"My home lies on the fringe of the city and it may be a long walk depending on the other drandil' reactions," Spinalo notified, "it's been a long time since a light elf has visited the Silver City."
"Why'd you volunteer to take us in," Tanarial questioned.
"You were kind to me when I fell from the tree," Spinalo explained, "and you refused to cut my throat when I offered it, therefor I should try to repay your kindness."
"But we caused you to fall out of the tree," Zerial reminded, his tone light and merry. Spinalo smiled happily and led the way into the drandil city.
"Welcome to Argentium, the Silver City," the dragon elf declared proudly.
Truly, Argentium was beautiful and, like the surrounding woods, well named. The city was located not only on the ground but also extending high into the trees, which were colossal and as white as snow from their trunks to their leaves. Buildings made of marble and limestone surrounded the bases of the great trees and lined the roads, which were paved with smoothed marble. The structures were built in every style known to the twins and in several that weren't. Walkways and staircases circled up the trees and ended in twisting spiraling bridges leading to more trees and more walkways. Dwellings of stone and wood were built into the tree tops as houses.
On the northern edge of the city, a sheer wall of rock rose up from the ground. It too was adorned by walkways, balconies, and staircases galore. Huge gaping cavern mouths occupied the higher regions of the cliff, where all manner of winged creatures were entering and exiting.
Though the city was populated by no more than about six or seven hundred elves, it seemed as if to hold three times that number. Elves bustled about the ground buildings and scurried across the wide arches at ridiculous speeds, all of them seeming to need to be somewhere else.
The place had a warm, peaceful aura to it. It reminded the twins of far away Silverymoon, a place they both thoroughly enjoyed.
~*~*~*~
Seivriel flopped down on her heavily cushioned couch, which was made entirely of pillows. She settled herself and even allowed the litter of wolf pups she had taken in to make themselves comfortable beside and on top of her. One of the pups, a black and red fellow named Lucifer, laid down on her chest and howled happily.
"Milady, Cain has returned," one of the door guards notified.
"Show him and the girl in," Seivriel ordered. A moment later the grand doors swung open and Cain strode in majestically, Lazuli still perched on his back. The winter wolf bowed his great head to Seivriel and allowed Lazuli to dismount. At the sight of Cain, Lucifer and his siblings charged at the larger wolf, howling with delight. Cain licked each puppy in turn and sent them back to Seivriel, where they once again arranged themselves around her. Lucifer reclaimed his place atop Seivriel's chest.
"I take my leave, Mistress," Cain announced respectfully before he departed, growling at the door guards as he did so.
"So you are the daughter of the renowned Artemis Entreri," Seivriel started, "pray tell me, how fares he?"
"Well in most all aspects," Lazuli shrugged.
"And how fares the drow, Jarlaxle?"
"Not well I'm afraid," Lazuli said slowly.
"Come closer, Child," Seivriel beckoned, "don't be shy." Lazuli did as she was told. "Sit if you like," Seivriel offered, gesturing toward the wide array of cushions and pillows. Lazuli sat boldly on the soft pillow directly across from Seivriel. Lucifer leapt from his perch and clambered into Lazuli's lap. Standing up on his hind legs and placing his wide paws on Lazuli's belly, the wolf pup howled happily and wagged his bushy, little tail.
Lazuli patted the puppy and rubbed his loose, baby coat of fur. He licked her hand and whined expectantly.
"Lucifer likes you," Seivriel observed, "he wants you to pick him up. Please continue with your tale."
"Jarlaxle is very sick," Lazuli stated, picking Lucifer up and letting him nestle into her chest, "it has been confirmed that Jarlaxle is sick with a plague currently ravaging the Underdark and the elven forests."
"That is ill news indeed," Seivriel reflected, "Artemis did not tell me the full details of the situation. He only spoke of your need of a swift ride to Icewind Dale."
"Jarlaxle is already entering the second of the four stages of the disease according to an associate's evaluation," Lazuli stated, "time is swiftly running out for him. Another three weeks and his body will be unable to fight the disease any longer."
"Aruine Abitus," Seivriel acknowledged, "word of this plague has reached my ears and eyes. So Jarlaxle lies on his deathbed and the daughter of the king of assassins races to save him," the pirate leader paused, "has it really come to this so soon?"
"I have a name," Lazuli said defensively, "it's Lazuli."
"I know," Seivriel said calmly, "I helped name you." Lazuli was taken aback, but showed it not. Perhaps I will tell you the tale someday, but three weeks is not a long time and Icewind Dale is a long way from here."
"You have the fastest ships on the Sword Coast," Lazuli exclaimed, "can't you get us there in time?"
"The fastest of my ships could be there in ten days," Seivriel countered grimly. Lazuli's heart sank. "Which is why we will be traveling by air instead," the pirate leader added cheerfully. Lazuli looked up.
"How," she demanded skeptically.
"I have my ways," Seivriel replied, standing up and shooing the wolf pups away, "follow me."
Lazuli did so, not having much other choice. Seivriel guided her swiftly into the high reaches of Ebony Manor, into the aviaries. They came to a small cave where a great black dragon was resting contentedly. Lazuli stared in awe at the beast. Jarlaxle had told her many stories of the dragons he had encountered in his life, all of them had been huge, ancient beasts of unsurpassed majesty. This black was no less lovely than the assassin had imagined a dragon would be.
"Well met, Melkor," Seivriel greeted with a deep bow.
"Greetings, Pirate Lady," Melkor returned, shifting his horned head and locking his penetrating gaze on Seivriel, "you bring a companion?"
"Melkor, this is Lazuli Entreri," Seivriel introduced, "Lazuli, this is Melkor."
"It is an honor, great dragon Melkor," Lazuli greeted, bowing deeply.
"The pleasure is all mine, fair lady," Melkor crooned, coiling an uncoiling his tail as he spoke in his deep, mesmeric voice, "why do you call, Pirate Lady?"
"To ask a favor," Seivriel stated, "a favor that only Melkor can grant."
"What is this favor worth," the dragon inquired.
"All the favor's plunder," the pirate promised.
"Ask it then," Melkor shifted his powerful legs out from under his belly.
"A swifter ride than any ship could give is needed greatly by myself and Lazuli," Seivriel explained. Melkor lifted his great head and stood proudly.
"Am I to carry you as if I were a common pack animal," the dragon snorted indignantly.
"Never a pack animal, dear Melkor," Seivriel assured, "it only occurred to me that you may wish to come and help raid a certain rival pirate's treasure horde on the way back." Lazuli understood perfectly. Seivriel was playing with Melkor, tempting him with the promise of treasures while asking for a service in return.
If Melkor had possibly been an older dragon he would have (literally) acidly refused Seivriel's request. But Melkor was not old, and his horde was pathetically small, even for a young dragon. He would take whatever gold he could obtain.
"Where are we going, when do we leave, and when must you arrive," Melkor asked slyly.
Seivriel suppressed a wide grin as she replied, "Icewind Dale, immediately, and as soon as possible." Melkor thought for a moment.
"I can reach Icewind Dale from here in a day and a half and I can leave whenever you wish," the black dragon reasoned.
"We depart in half an hour then," Seivriel decided, "we will see you at the end of Cresant Street, Melkor." The dragon nodded his approval.
Seivriel bowed and exited the cave. Lazuli followed suit and hurried after the pirate leader.
~*~*~*~
Reigaldus Seralon trekked steadily across the snow. Leaving no tracks or trail, the renegade drow was nearing the end of a long journey. Reigaldus was a orphan whose family had been destroyed for sacrilege against the Spider Queen. Ever a curious free-spirit, Reigaldus had declined the chance to join with any minor houses and had left Menzoberranzan to see the surface.
Ahead loomed Bryn Shander, the center of activity in Ten Towns, the rogue drow's destination. The gate guards glared down at Reigaldus, untrusting of all strangers.
"State your name and business," they demanded. Reigaldus grinned under a low cowl. For the rogue, this was a prime opportunity to cause some trouble. Reigaldus reached up slowly, brandishing the ebony skin that marked the drow race, and throw back the low cowl. The gate guards jumped in surprise.
"A drow," one exclaimed.
"Go away, devil," ordered another.
"I am Reigaldus Seralon," Reigaldus boldly proclaimed, "I come seeking my sister and my brother-in-law."
"Begone before we shoot you down, drow," the first guard commanded, taking aim at Reigaldus's chest. The other guards also trained their bows on the renegade.
"Shoot if it will please you," Reigaldus shrugged slyly, "I care not."
The first archer fired. The arrow should have pierced Reigaldus's heart and killed the stray drow immediately. But it didn't. The missile merely passed through Reigaldus's chest and lodged itself in the snow. In a panic, the other archers let fly their arrows to the same result.
"What in the nine hells are you," the lead guard demanded fearfully.
"Do that again, it tickles so pleasantly," Reigaldus teased, grinning from ear to pointed ear and showing fang-like canine teeth.
"A vampire," one of the guards cried out. Reigaldus laughed and levitated up to the parapets, still grinning widely.
"Not a vampire," the renegade corrected, floating so close to the leader that they could have shaken hands, "just a wandering trickster."
"Go away," the leader screamed, slashing at Reigaldus with a slender sword at the same time the rogue relaxed the spell that had defeated the arrows. The drow reeled back sharply, putting a hand against a torn collarbone.
"That's going to leave a scar," Reigaldus remarked in mock annoyance, " well since you wont let me in politely, I suppose I'll have to tell my big sister how nasty you were to me, then if I find the time I might come back and exact some petty revenge. Time permitting, you'll all be dead within a ten-day." With a wide grin, Reigaldus dissolved into a thin gray mist and disappeared.
~*~*~*~
Dagasta opened his eyes and groaned. His whole body ached fiercely. When he looked himself over, the patron found himself bearing a spiderweb of scars spread across his naked chest, streaked down his arms, and snaked over his tight stomach.
"Triel must have had fun with you," Dantrag observed from the entrance.
"More than you'll ever know," Dagasta added to the jest, "I just hope I'm still all in one piece."
"Have you looked yet," Dantrag asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"One second," Dagasta turned his back, also criss-crossed with scars, to Dantrag for a moment. Dantrag rolled his amber eyes and shook his head slowly. "Yep," Dagasta confirmed cheerfully, turning back around, "still all there." Dantrag sighed in disgust. "Mushroom stalk in the mud," Dagasta snorted distastefully, "you have no sense of humor at all."
Dantrag glared at the patron with eyes fast turning red.
"Mad Dantrag!" Dagasta pretended to panic, even went so far as to wave his arms in mock terror, "run for the surface! It's the mad Dantrag!"
"You were almost ripped and torn apart and you're laughing like you just tripped over a stray rock," Dantrag exclaimed, his patience long flown out the window.
"Does my light hearted view of life bother you," Dagasta asked stupidly.
"No, I rather enjoyed it when you screamed 'Mad Dantrag' and waved your arms," Dantrag snorted cynically.
"In that case, I'll do it again," Dagasta chirped, "Mad Dantrag! Mad Dantrag!"
Dantrag glared harder although some deep part of him was glad to see the patron well again.
~*~*~*~
Drizzt and Dinin plowed through the deep snow and climbed up the steep trail of rocks. Along the way, Dinin practiced his Common Tongue.
"Abbil," Drizzt prompted, hopping several feet to a higher rock.
"Friend," Dinin translated, following his brother's lead.
"Khales."
"Trust."
"Suuz'chok."
"Tradition."
"Sargtlin."
"Warrior."
"Excellent," Drizzt complimented in Deep Drow, "you'll be speaking Common in no time." They reached the top of the climb and Drizzt sat down on a large boulder. "This place is called Bruenor's Climb," he explained, "I come here to think, to look back and reflect on my life."
"Are you ever sorry you left," Dinin asked, sitting down across from his brother.
"There was little in Menzoberranzan that I held dear," Drizzt replied, " all I missed were Belwar, Clacker, and Zaknafein." Dinin seemed confused. "Clacker was a pech that had been polymorphed into a hook horror," Drizzt explained, "and Belwar..." He stopped all of the sudden, a painful memory had rushed back into his thoughts at the mention of Belwar.
"What," Dinin pressed.
"Do you remember the svirfnebli party our patrol was assigned to kill," Drizzt asked. Dinin nodded. "Remember how Masoj sent Guenwhyvar after the gnomes that captured me?" Again Dinin nodded. "Remember the gnome whose hands you cut off?" Drizzt's voice had gone cold without his knowing it.
"I remember," Dinin said defensively.
"That was Belwar," Drizzt stated, "after several years alone in the wilds I went to Blingdinstone. The gnomes were not cruel to me, but neither did they fully trust me. Belwar convinced them that I was a friend. He took me into his home, taught me his language, treated me with kindness." Drizzt sighed heavily and let his lavender eyes drift over the surrounding tundra, the snow blinding in the afternoon sun. "I still miss them, Clacker was killed and Belwar remained in Blingdinstone after I came to the surface."
"Did you ever think of going back" Dinin asked.
"At first," Drizzt admitted, "I faced so much hate from the surface people at first. I couldn't speak their language so I couldn't explain myself. They would not have believed me anyway. I wondered if I had gone against some divine plan. It all seemed so very hopeless.
"Yet you have remained and thrived," Dinin observed, "you have a home, friends, a family that won't slit your throat just to climb higher in rank." Dinin also let his sight drift. "You're free."
"You're free too now," Drizzt pointed out, sympathetically, "you can have those things too now."
"You and I are different, Drizzt," Dinin shook his head, "you have always had morals and principles, I have yet to learn them." Drizzt wanted to counter, to tell Dinin not to despair and that he would learn in time, but the look in his brother's ruby eyes was not one of hope. Dinin's eyes were the eyes of a dying soldier. Beaten and defeated.
Before Drizzt could try to think of something to say, Guenwhyvar bounded up the climb, roaring, an enormous, white wolf chasing after her.
"What in the nine hells," Dinin exclaimed. Guenwhyvar stood rigid with her back to Drizzt, snarling at the wolf menacingly, determined to protect her master. The wolf paced several feet in front of her, hackles up and growling.
"Damn it all, Guenwhyvar," a new voice from down the winding trail complained in the drow language, "you gave us away again." Drizzt knew the voice.
"Reigaldus," he called questioningly.
"Wrong, foolish male! It is I Matron Yvonnel Baenre herself!" A ghostly apparition floated up from the climb and hovered several feet off the ground. The ghostly figure was caked in blood, an arm was missing, and the right side of the head was badly displaced. Dinin fell back, swords leaping to his hands, but Drizzt laughed long and loud.
"How many times shall we try this jest," Drizzt grinned.
"Until you fall for it," the ghost said angrily, "if your damn cat didn't always give me away, than I would have had you so many times."
"And if you didn't let my cat see YOUR WOLF then she wouldn't be able to give you away," Drizzt countered snidely, "Rei-gal-dus." The ranger dragged out the renegade's name.
The ghost, who wasn't really a ghost at all, began to shift shape. Its arm grew back, the blood faded, the head realigned itself. Soon what had once been the ghost of a great matron became a handsome drow male with very long, white hair, two-toned eyes, and a wide smirk that showed pointed eye- teeth. The wolf stalked over to Reigaldus and sat protectively beside his master.
"Nessa said you were up here," Reigaldus began, stroking the wolf's snow- white fur.
"How long have you and the wolf been in Icewind Dale," Drizzt demanded suspiciously, laying a hand on Guenwhyvar's head to cam her.
"Andrazilian and I arrived this morning," Reigaldus replied innocently.
"Right," Drizzt concluded skeptically, "more likely you came in last night, tormented somebody with your tricks, left, then returned this morning."
"Who is your friend," Reigaldus asked quickly, changing the subject. Drizzt sighed.
"Dinin, this is the family idiot, Nessa's brother," the ranger introduced, "Family Idiot, this is my half-brother Dinin."
"Meilikki Paladin here," Reigaldus jerked his thumb to indicate Drizzt, " means to call me Reigaldus, or just Reig if you like, but he has a low opinion of me."
"Family Idiot is a dobluth," Drizzt explained, using the drow word for outcast, "by drow custom he should have been sacrificed at birth, but Nessa secretly kept him hidden for decades, taking care of him and somewhat warping his mind in the process."
"I see," Dinin concluded. He seemed to remember something about a drow house being brought down for treachery against the Spider Queen. The house's matron was accused of denouncing the Spider Queen and worshipping another goddess, forming alliances with colnbluth, non-drow, and breaking the edicts of Lolth, rescuing third born sons for one offense. The matron herself and most of her cohorts had not been captured and her sisters swore that they knew nothing of the sacrilege done by the matron in question. However, he could not remember the name of the house.
"Daiblon Oculadae," Reigaldus informed simply. Dinin stuttered for a second.
"What?"
"The house you were remembering," Reigaldus explained, "you were thinking of Daiblon Oculadae, House Seralon."
To be continued...
AN: Despite rumors that I am a slacker... what a minute. Why am I denying this? I AM a slacker. But that doesn't mean I don't try to give my best when it comes to my writing. Ok, so my grades could be a little better and I could study a little more for my math and Japanese tests, but that would take time out of my writing. (bangs head against wall, which BTW burns 150 calories an hour, wow) Damn school.
That stupid doohicky that posts stuff is making me mad. Here on Microsoft Word, I can put stuff like ship names and drow words in italics so that people know what they are. But that damn doohicky puts in back in normal font. Why?! Same with Bold lettering. Does anyone know how to not make that happen? I've seen it on some other people's stuff so why does it do that to me?
Who likes Reigaldus? I thought there are too many serious uptight people in this story so I made Reig (which is pronounced as rage) a carefree, fun- loving, trickster type character. The scene between Dagasta and Dantrag (Mad Dantrag!) was also put in to lighten the mood and to keep the story entertaining. And the rivalry between Guenwhyvar (who just appeared in this chap for those who noticed) and Andrazilian I thought would be humorous, you know, cats vs. dogs.
The scene between Dinin and Drizzt... wait a sec! I can't spoil that! Never mind! Talking too much. Please review now that you've obviously read it.
~ Semdai Bloodquill
PS - Am currently developing a song fic about Zak (song is 'Forgive Me' by Godsmack). Thinking about dumping it since I have so much other stuff already. Should I dump it or keep going? Please tell me.